


Mirandy Prompt fics

by giantessmess



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-04 05:33:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10269362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/giantessmess/pseuds/giantessmess
Summary: I don't know how many I'll add to this, but this first one was written for a tumblr prompt. It's too small and fluffy to really be it's own story. And the Mirandy fandom is scattered, but seems to at least be most active here.





	1. Chapter 1

“I can’t believe I’m sitting in a jail cell…and with you of all people.”

“I’d hardly call this a jail, Miranda.”

“Oh? Been in many, have you?”

Andy rolled her eyes, and tried for what felt the millionth time to get comfortable on the generic plastic chair. Miranda perched in hers primly, as if disgusted to be in contact with something with such an unimaginative design.

“They’ll be back any minute now. I mean, they can’t keep us forever.”

“I truly cannot wait.”

“Did you really have to punch Mickey Mouse?”

“Yes,” Miranda said. “I did.”

Andy sighed, which made Miranda purse her lips.

“And before you get all pious and uppity on me, let me remind you what he said to me.”

“Oh I heard him, Miranda. I was standing right there.”

Miranda glared, but not at her. She glared in some general way that made it obvious how uncomfortable she was.

“He didn’t upset me,” Andy said, softly. “You didn’t have to—”

“He called you a…” Miranda closed her eyes. “Of all the things. Andrea, I hope you know…”

“You don’t even have to say it, Miranda.”

“I truly shouldn’t have,” she sighed. “It was unprofessional. It was…”

“No. Listen, I kissed you back didn’t I? And I sure as hell don’t care what some guy in a Mickey Mouse suit thinks.”

“We were in public. Broad daylight, in a public place. He wasn’t half-wrong.”

“What?” Andy stuttered, frowning for a moment. “That I’m a motherfu—”

Miranda’s face colored a little.

“No.”

“You know what, I withdraw my complaint. I’m glad you punched him.” Andy said. 

“I’m old enough to be your mother, Andrea.”

“And I’m old enough to know what I want.”

Miranda sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“It’s getting stuffy in here,” she said. “How long have we been imprisoned in this depressing little room?”

“Um…forty minutes?” Andy watched as Miranda’s expression darkened. “Look, Mickey was an ass. But it’s not security’s fault they didn’t recognise you. I mean, not everyone reads…” 

“I’ll destroy them.” 

“You can’t destroy Disneyland, Miranda.”

Miranda shot her a satisfied smirk, and Andy found herself a little mesmerized by the look in her eyes.

“Watch me.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You are an experienced wizard, have mastered the arts of alchemy, magic, the summoning of beasts and many other arcane schools. But now you have a problem you can’t deal with: Your young apprentice isn’t focused, and she seems to have a crush on you."  
> From the "writing-prompt-s" tumblr. Apologies that there isn't more to it.

Miranda may have had a reputation for flirting with the darker side of the Arts, but in reality she was loath to cast wide-reaching spells on mundane humans. It was invasive, damaging and generally unnecessary. But this was the second mess she’d had to clean up that week. It wasn’t a simple spillage or a simple error in potion mixing, which would have been worrying enough coming from a talented Apprentice. No—it was another huge magical catastrophe that required civilian memory alteration. Of course, Andrea was always quick to apologize, quick to try and stutter out an explanation. But honestly, this kind of hand-holding shouldn’t have been necessary at where they were in Andrea’s apprenticeship.

Miranda supposed it was her own fault, for taking the chance on this unworthy specimen in Midwestern mall-wear.

Andrea was not the type of girl Miranda would usually choose as an Apprentice. But in all honestly, the amount of useless waifs she’d go through in a year—all well-versed in her work, all clamoring to hear her every whispered word. They were usually dull as a blunt stone underneath all their outer charms. Good families, well-trod paths of education and exposure to magical learning. Somehow, they were always a disappointment. And it simply wouldn’t do for Miranda Priestly, of all people, to not have an apprentice to pass her vast store of knowledge onto. People were beginning to talk. And while she generally didn’t give a whiff what people thought of her, she did value the work above all. And the work, the craft she practiced, was one that required the handing-down of knowledge.

Miranda had gotten to the point where she even tried to be training two apprentices at any one time, thereby doubling the chance that at least one of them would be receptive to the teachings. But her kind of magic required an attention to detail, and a deep core power that many simply did not posses. Emily certainly didn’t. Though she was at least attentive, careful, and listened well to instruction. She made a good assistant. But if Emily was of the impression that she was going to suddenly develop abilities out of the blue that were highly impossible, and somehow become the much searched-for success story? Well, she was in for a rude shock.

Andrea had turned up in a flurry of light one morning. Unexpected things like that were always important to watch, in case they were ominous. In any case, a meeting was cancelled without notice. Leaving Miranda to return to her offices early enough to cross paths wth the girl. If she had arrived any later, she never would have had the pleasure. Because from the outside, Andrea seemed mundane, dull. Not at all suited to magic. She looked exactly like the fresh-out-of-college first-job child she was. Beige coat, Kmart trousers. She didn’t look like a witch, or at all like the kind of girl who had any knowledge of their world.

“I am well-versed in basic chemistry, studied ancient history and wrote my thesis on—”

“You have no real-world knowledge of the Magical Arts.”

Miranda gave her a once over, with a frown.

“Look, I have to learn from someone,” the girl said.

“And I suppose anyone will do?” Miranda smiled thinly, her voice taking on a kind of menacing musicality. “You have no idea who I am, do you? Or what it is I do here?”

“Well, I found you in the directory,” Andrea shrugged. “There’s quite a lot of you people.”

“ _Us_ people?”

Andrea thankfully seemed to quake a little at her tone, for she stumbled.

“Witches? I dunno, is that the right word? This is all new to me,” she shrugged, and smiled like they were sharing a joke. Miranda didn’t smile back.

“I see.” Miranda began to look down at the work in front of her then, waving a hand in dismissal.

“No, _look_ ,” Andrea’s tone grew demanding, which made Miranda blink once. The girl’s hand was gripped into a fist, which radiated power. “I’m good, ok? Really good. I’m smart, I learn fast. And—“

One of Miranda’s assistants, a qualified wizard, pushed through with a question on re-vitalizing potions that interrupted Andrea mid-rant.

"¬I don’t know what Stephanie was thinking,” he said, already in the middle of an old conversation. “Look at these numbers. If we release this much into the water supply we’ll kill half the Eastern Seaboard.”

“Ok, well…thanks…” Andrea seemed to sigh the words, already wandering out the door.

Miranda stopped Nigel’s queries mid-sentence and stared after the girl. She had to be blind not to see potential when it was that obvious. Resigning herself to it, she sent Emily running to get Andrea. Bring her back. Let’s see if she could be taught.


End file.
